J.B. Spins

Jazz, film, and improvised culture.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Headshot: You Can’t Keep Iko Uwais Down

You
have to respect a film that knows martial arts and Moby-Dick. Well, at least it knows the first page—and plenty of
ways to administer a good beat-down. While he has amnesia, an attractive intern’s
mysterious patient will be known as Ishmael, but his true self might not be so
pleasant to meet. Nevertheless, he will do whatever it takes to rescue her from
his former associates in the Mo Brothers (Kimo Stamboel & Timo Tjahjanto)’s
Headshot (trailer here), which opens this
Friday in New York.

Mr.
Lee, as he is simply known, is about to break out of prison—and the carnage
will be breathtaking. Around the same time, a comatose body with a cranial
bullet wound washes up in a fisherman’s net. During her residency in a provincial
clinic, the Jakarta-based Ailin nurses him back to health. She dubs him Ishmael
because she is reading Melville and takes a liking to him when he comes to. Ishmael
remembers little, but periodically he gets violent flashbacks, featuring Mr.
Lee and his loyal lieutenant Rika. Even though he suspects he is kind of a bad
cat, Ishmael (or Abdi as Mr. Lee and his men knew him) is determined to protect
Ailin. He is therefore somewhat bent out of shape when Mr. Lee’s thugs kidnap
her to flush him out.

From
here on out, it is essentially pedal-to-the-metal butt-kicking. Of course, the
cops are no help. They even cuff him up, making him even more vulnerable to Mr.
Lee’s hit squads, but it hardly matters. This is a man who could shake off a
bullet to the head—and he wasn’t even that motivated at the time.

With
action choreography credited to “Team Uwais,” Headshot is an adrenaline shot through the breastplate very much in
the tradition of his breakout hit franchise The
Raid. Although Yayan “Mad Dog” Ruhian is absent this time around, Julie “Hammer
Girl” Estelle is on-board as Rika, one of the deadliest of Mr. Lee’s henchfolk.

The
fight scenes offer no quarter, incorporating all sorts off back-breaking, skull
crushing moves. It gets brutal, in a spectacularly cinematic way. Although it
represents a departure from the Mo Brothers’ previous horror films (like the
disturbingly vicious Killers), Headshot most likely boasts a higher
body-count. In fact, they stage two flat-out massacre scenes (at least one of
which is admittedly somewhat unsettling).

Still,
there is no denying Uwais’s skills. He also builds some appealing chemistry
with Chelsea Islan’s Ailin. She is quite a discovery, playing the prospective
doctor with warmth and intelligence. As Rika, Estelle still keeps pace with
Uwais, even showing some dramatic range this time around, while Sunny Pang
chews the scenery with fierce conviction as Mr. Lee. Plus, several dozen supporting
players and stunt performers sport some impressive chops of their own as they
put themselves through the meat grinder for our entertainment.

Some might confuse the Mo Brothers’ Headshot with Pen-ek Ratanuang’s Thai
crime drama Headshot, which is also a
terrific film. Basically, our position is any Asian action film called Headshot is probably worth seeing. In
the case of the Indonesian Headshot,
nobody was taking half-measures. The Mo Brothers, Uwais, and Estelle throw it
down with authority. Highly recommended for martial arts fans, Headshot opens this Friday (3/3) in New
York, at the Cinema Village.

Eyeless in Gaza: Exposing Systemic Media Bias Against Israel

It
was undoubtedly unsettling when Hamas started launching rockets aimed at Israel
next to the Associated Press’s Gaza headquarters, but it sure should have made
it easy to report the news. Yet, the incident was never mentioned in any of
their dispatches. They also spiked any reference to the Hamas gunmen who
stormed their office in a blatant act of intimidation. Matt Friedman would
know. He was present for both events. He is one of a handful of Western
journalists who expose the media’s deliberately and knowingly biased reporting
of the Gaza conflict, siding against Israel and with Hamas in Martin Himel’s Eyeless in Gaza (trailer here), which releases
today on VOD.

The
Western media was right about one thing: war crimes were committed in Gaza. They
just blamed the wrong combatants. By any standard of international law, the use
of human shields constitutes a war crime. This was Hamas’s primary strategy in
Gaza, but only a handful of media outlets, notably from India and Italy,
reported on the practice. Callously and cynically, Hamas intentionally tried to
maximize civilian casualties in Gaza, as part of their concerted propaganda
campaign. In fact, the IDF did its best to warn the local populace of their
impending counter-attacks, but Hamas pressured them to stay and become cannon
fodder.

Meanwhile,
the terrorist organization continued to rain down Qassam rockets on Israeli
towns like Sderot. Those crude projectiles are essentially flying pipe bombs—too
unpredictable for legitimate military applications, but perfect for inflicting
pain on civilian populations. Given their nature, a high percentage of Qassam
rockets fell short into Gaza, but who do you think got the blame for that?

In
some footage, Western journalists literally ignore or mischaracterize Qassam
rockets launched mere feet from their positions. They have also grossly
under-reported the network of “terror tunnels” Hamas built under Gaza for the
express purpose of attacking Israeli civilians (with Western “humanitarian” aid
funds). Yet, perhaps most revealing is the radio silence on the plight of
nearly 160,000 self-identifying Palestinians who have been dispossessed and in
many cases killed by Assad and Daesh during the Syrian civil war. Contrast that
with the chorus of protests for about 2,000 killed during the Gaza conflict. So
much for the media’s sympathy for Syrian refugees.

Himel is a trenchant interviewer who has a knack
for getting the cold hard facts out of his subjects—in many cases more so than
they probably intended. He also assembles some pointedly telling footage from
media reports that are almost Orwellian in their disconnection from reality.
Although only running an economical fifty-one minutes, it is a damning
indictment of media malpractice. It is truly impossible to watch Eyeless and not be convinced the Western
media has betrayed all its principles, recklessly siding with an illiberal
terrorist faction, for the sake of a preconceived victimization narrative.
Highly recommended for anyone seeking clarity and insight on the Israeli-Hamas
conflict, Eyeless in Gaza is now
available via digital VOD platforms, including Vimeo.

Monday, February 27, 2017

Cinequest ’17: Real Artists (short)

Are
all the screenplays slavishly written according to a pre-conceived “beat sheet”
really so different from what the storied Semaphore animation studio practices?
It certainly has produced hits, but it might be a bit much for aspiring animator
Sophia Baker to take in when she interviews with the accomplished chief
animator in Cameo Wood’s short film Real
Artists (trailer
here),
which screens during the 2017 Cinequest Film & VR Festival.

Baker
has always wanted to make movies—preferably for Semaphore. Anne Palladon
appears to be willing to give her that chance, but she will have to do it the Semaphore
way. What is the secret of their success? You will have to sign a NDA before
she can tell you about it. Apparently, Semaphore is more “security-conscious”
than Amazon, Google, and the now bankrupt Solyndra combined. It is safe to say
their techniques are speculative, but not to a very great extent.

Real Artists is the second
short adapted from a story by science fiction writer and translator Ken Liu, following
last year’s Beautiful Dreamer. It is
also one of several recent shorts using genre premises to explore big picture
ideas, starring Tamlyn Tomita (from The
Joy Luck Club amongst numerous other credits), like Seppuku. Frankly, she makes Palladon look like a tough boss, but
perhaps a corporate leader you can believe in.

Neither
the near-future technology nor the final twist are hugely shocking, but Real Artists comes in a super slick
package and it really invites us to question the nature of the films we see.
Arguably, in the focus-grouped world we live in, film production is already not
so far removed from the techniques of Semaphore. It is also rather refreshing
to watch Tomita and Tiffany Hines verbally circle each other as the co-leads.

For a short film, Real Artists boasts an impressive cast, along with Liu’s
Hugo-winning pedigree. It also represents a lot of encouraging trends,
particularly the adaptation of literate science fiction short stories that
require little or no special effects. Recommended for sf fans and those who
recognize any of the personnel involved, Real
Artists screens this Thursday (3/2), Saturday (3/4) next Monday (3/6), and
the following Friday (3/10), as part of this year’s Cinequest in San Jose and
Redwood City.

Mizoguchi’s Ugetsu

Most
Japanese social critics agree Kenji Mizoguchi’s final film, Street of Shame played a crucial role bringing
about the legal criminalization of prostitution. It was an issue that held
personal significance for the auteur, due to the fate of Suzuko, an older
sister sold into a geisha house when their father’s business plan to capitalize
on the shorter-than-expected Russo-Japanese War collapsed. Echoes of his family
experience can also be heard throughout Mizoguchi’s 4K restored masterpiece, Ugetsu (trailer here), which opens this
Friday at Film Forum.

Ugetsu is based on two stories
drawn from Akinari Ueda’s Ugetsu
Monogatari, a collection of traditional Ming-era Chinese supernatural tales
adapted to pre-Edo era Japan, but you would hardly know it from first thirty
minutes or so. Instead of rushing into the ghostly encounters, Mizoguchi takes
his time introducing his primary characters. Genjūro is a provincial potter,
who recognizes the impending war brings an opportunity to sell all his stock at
premium prices. Much to the chagrin of his faithful wife Miyagi, Genjūro’s
success encourages him to press his luck. While most of the village is primed
to evacuate, Genjūro maintains his kiln fires, hoping to finish enough stock
for an even more profitable trading excursion.

He
enlists the assistance of his neighbor, Tōbei, who has developed an almost
Quixotic ambition to become a samurai. To do so, he will need to purchase armor
and a spear, which he hopes to cover with his share of the pottery profits. His
wife Ohama considers his plan tantamount to madness. Even when the soldiers
overrun their village, the two neighbors cling to their vain obsessions. As a
result, they will tragically leave their wives in precariously vulnerable
positions. However, Genjūro will also jeopardize his very soul when he falls
under the spell of a temptress ghost during his second attempt to sell his
wares in the provincial capital at inflated wartime prices.

One
look at the ethereal Machiko Kyō is enough for us to tell she is a ghost, but Genjūro
is bewitched. In fact, Kyō’s eerie look, including long flowing garments and
tresses, would influence nearly every Japanese ghost film that followed Ugetsu. Yet, Mizoguchi’s film is just as
much a work of socially conscious cinema as it is a Kwaidan-esque yarn. The peasantry suffers terribly at the hands of
warring samurai in Ugetsu, especially
the women, but as is always the case in grand tragedy, their downfall is
precipitated by the men’s overreaching ambitions.

Mizoguchi
regular Kinuyo Tanaka is utterly heartbreaking as Miyagi. Her haunting
performance (so to speak) will literally have you doubting things you have
previously seen with your own eyes in a pivotal third act scene. Yet, Mitsuko Mito arguably offers an even more
forceful indictment of men’s follies, as the wronged Ohama. Despite the power
of their work, it is Kyō who became the iconic face of the film. Masayuki Mori
makes Genjūro a figure of acute pathos, but as was often the case with
Mizoguchi films, it is the women who define Ugetsu.

Ugetsu is one of a
handful of Japanese films, along with Kobayashi’s Kwaidanand Shindō’s Onibabaand
Kuronekothat prove supernatural “horror”
films can indeed reach the level of high art. It is one of the films everyone
ought to catch up with, especially now that it has been so carefully restored.
Very highly recommended for anyone who takes cinema seriously, Ugetsu opens this Friday (3/3) in New York,
at Film Forum.

Cut to the Chase: Shreveport Noir

It
is a really bad idea to run up gambling debts with a gangster simply known as “The
Man.” It is a particularly bad idea to do so in Louisiana, where a lot of the
rules do not apply so much. Of course, a lowlife like Max Chase specializes in
really bad decisions. He assumed his sister, an assistant district attorney would
protect him from consequences, but he will have to save her instead when she
disappears under mysterious circumstances in Blayne Weaver’s Cut to the Chase (trailer here), which screens
tomorrow in New York and next Monday in Los Angeles.

After
an ill-advised double-or-nothing bet, Chase now has a week to pay The Man
$3,000—or else. Yet, he is not even trying to raise the money or get out of
town. He just carries on with his degenerate life style. Unfortunately, he misses
the frantic calls from his frantic sister Isobel during his drunken debauchery.

It
turns out Izzy Chase had an abusive ex-boyfriend in her private life and had
just been assigned to lead the DA’s case against The Man in her professional
life, so there is no shortage of people Chase can get mad at. Thanks to the
spooked DA (who was also seeing Isobel on the side), Chase tracks down Nola
Barnes, the star witness against The Man to forge an alliance of convenience.
Unfortunately, Chase is getting played left and right, but he is still
dangerous in a bull in a china shop kind of way.

The
most important thing to take into consideration regarding Cut is Lance Henriksen, The Man himself, plays The Man. Knowing
Henriksen is on-board guarantees the film a solid baseline of genre entertainment.
As his own lead, Weaver is certainly willing to act sad and disreputable,
perhaps succeeding too well. Lyndie Greenwood also shows some impressive
fierceness as Barnes. Frankly, the entire film is well cast. The problem is the
narrative often feels very small time.

When
watching Cut, it is hard not to think
of the recent tragic death of Bill Paxton, who made a specialty of playing
colorfully flawed characters in Southern noirs like this. Weaver is no Paxton,
but he is not bad, while Henriksen reliably does his thing, being The Man.
Darkly diverting but not exactly essential, Cut
to the Chase screens tomorrow (2/28) in New York, at the AMC Loews 19thStreet.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Oscars 1976: The Man Who Skied Down Everest

Win
an Oscar, attain immortality. That is what media coverage of the Academy Awards
generally suggests. However, without the headline above, could you have named
the best documentary winner from 1976? Honestly, it is a decent film, but it is
not exactly on the tip of a lot of tongues, like so many forgotten statuette
winners. At least Bruce Nyznik & Lawrence Schiller’s The Man Who Skied Down Everest(trailer here)has been restored
by the Academy and recently released on DVD and BluRay from the Film Detective.

Yuichiro
Miura twice became the oldest man to summit Everest in 2003 and 2013, but in
the mid-1970s he famous for, you know, skiing down it. His May 1970 expedition
was eventful and duly documented by Nyznik, Schiller, and their intrepid
cinematographer Mitsuji Kanau (who also shot the Sandakan 8, which was nominated for best foreign language film at
the same Oscars). As those who have seen subsequent Everest documentaries
understand, just getting to the mountain is a grueling trek. Unfortunately,
their party met with tragedy when an ice shelf collapsed under six Sherpas.

Miura
does in fact question whether his mad scheme can still be justified in light of
their deaths. We hear much from him throughout the film, yet we rarely really
truly hear from him. The voice-overs are entirely adapted from his expedition
journals, but instead of relying on his voice and subtitles, we hear Douglas Rain
(the voice of HAL 9000) narrate the English translations. This was probably
considered a much more accessible strategy at the time, but it makes it far
more difficult to forge an emotional connection with Miura. Rain’s rich
English-sounding Canadian voice arguably is not so well suited to Miura’s
Zen-like meditations, making them sound more self-serious than they probably
should.

Still,
there is no question the filmmakers captured some extreme alpinism. Frankly, it
is a little surprisingly some distributor did not think to re-release the Oscar
winning doc during the mini-boomlet for mountaineering films a few years ago. Man Who Skied is particularly notable
because you can argue the 1970 skiing campaign was either a thrilling victory
or an agonizing defeat based on the climatic event itself.

It
is entirely possible the filmmakers would make different aesthetic decisions if
they were making Man Who Skied today.
Nevertheless, it remains a film with considerable merits (including its respect
for the Sherpas). It might jolly well have been the best documentary released in
1975, for what that’s worth.

If
you want to see how fleeting supposed “fame” can be, checkout the video of the
producers receiving their Oscars from Beau Bridges and Marilyn Hassett. Bridges
and who? Hassett co-starred with Bridges in The
Other Side of the Mountain, which at that time was one of Universal’s
top-grossing films ever. She won the best newcomer award at that year’s Golden
Globes, without generating any controversy. The Academy declined to nominate
her, but in retrospect it seems almost suspiciously apt they chose the stars of
a skiing drama to give the documentary award in a year when a skiing doc won.
Regardless, it is worth remembering as this year’s presenters make their tiresome
political statements how short the shelf life for fame and Oscar glory can be.

In contrast, Miura did really went out and did
something. It was probably crazy and ill-advised, but he ran the risks just as
much as his unfortunate Sherpas—and he keeps going back out there. Recommended
for extreme sports fans, The Man Who
Skied Down Everest is now available on DVD and BluRay, from the Film Detective.

Saturday, February 25, 2017

Reseeing Iran ’17: 76 Minutes and 15 Seconds with Abbas Kiarostami

Somehow
Abbas Kiarostami found a way to rise above the extreme manifestations of
politics and ideology that have bedeviled Iran for decades. He never went into
exile (voluntarily or otherwise), yet he openly collaborated with dissident
filmmakers like Jafar Panahi and Mohammad Rassoulof. He rarely directly
addressed contentious issues, yet his focus on children characters is often
considered a deliberate strategy to circumvent censorship. With his death,
there is no equivalent filmmaker to step into his shoes. Kiarostami’s friend
and photographic colleague Seyfolah Samadian splices together some of the fond
moments he captured with the master in 76
Minutes and 15 Seconds with Abbas Kiarostami (trailer here), which screens
tomorrow as part of Reseeing Iran: The 21st Annual Iranian Film Festival in DC.

It
is easy to see why Samadian and Kiarostami were friends and collaborators. As
fellow photographers, they both shared an appreciation for visual composition.
Unfortunately, from a cinematic perspective, Samadian was apparently
particularly involved in Kiarostami’s long-take video installation Five Dedicated to Ozu, an ostensive
tribute to the Japanese master, which is easily one of the most challenging
films in the Kiarostami oeuvre. However, it makes it clear those paddlings of
ducks and gaggles of geese did not happen by accident.

If
nothing else, 76 Minutes will present
a clear picture of Kiarostami’s painstakingly deliberate process of crafting
film. Yet, there is nothing neurotic or obsessive about it. Instead, he rather
seems to enjoy it. As befits its purpose as a tribute film, Samadian includes many
scenes of Kiarostami reciting poetry and laughing with friends. Both subject
and toastmaster-documentarian also look like they get a kick out of the meta
scenes, as when Samadian films Kiarostami “co-directing” a scene Massoud
Kimiai, with Panahi serving as their handheld cinematographer.

There
are some interesting insights tucked away in 76 Minutes and 15 Seconds (an accurate reflection of the films
running time that also references Kiarostami’s age at the time of his death: 76
years and 15 days), but it is definitely a small, quiet film. Still, the man
who helmed minimalist fare such as Five and
Shirinwould probably approve.

Samadian’s
doc has often been paired-up with Kiarostami’s final short film on the festival
circuit and such is the case again this weekend. Kiarostami’s Take Me Home is a Red Balloon-esque film that follows a rolling soccer-football
through the infinite, Escher-like steps of a picturesque Southern Italian
coastal village. The black-and-white cinematography is spectacular and Peter
Soleimanipour’s melodic score is snappy and sophisticated, but the
computer-enhanced bouncing ball is often distractingly fake looking. Still, it
is another film that illustrates how Kiarostami’s photographic sensibilities
influenced his films.

Regardless, Certified Copyremains one of his most wry and rapturously best films. 76 Minutes and 15 Seconds with Abbas
Kiarostami is basically recommended for the auteur’s dedicated admirers
when it screens tomorrow (2/26) at the National Gallery of Art, but Certified Copy is recommended for
everyone when it screens today (2/25) and Monday (2/27) at the AFI Silver
Theatre, as part of Reseeing Iran.

Friday, February 24, 2017

Get Out: Racial Politics, Blumhouse-Style

Rose
Armitage’s parents are truly terrifying. They are rich white liberals who would
have voted for Obama a third time if they had the chance. That alone sounds
pretty creepy, but they go out of their way to be hospitable when Rose brings
her African American boyfriend home for a visit. However, they have nefarious
ulterior motives for their warm welcome in Jordan Peele’s Blumhouse-produced Get Out (trailer here), which opens today
nationwide.

Armitage
promises Chris Washington her parents will not freak out when they meet him and
initially they live up to her assurances. Frankly, they might be trying to act
a little too cool. Her jerkweed brother Jeremy is a different story, but
everyone seems duly embarrassed by him. Washington is slightly put off by the
constant offers from Rose’s hypnotherapist mom Missy to stop his smoking habit through
post-hypnotic suggestion, but it is the eerily quiet live-in housekeeper and
handyman (both African American) who first stir his suspicions.

Washington
really starts to get freaked when a missing acquaintance of his TSA buddy Rod
Williams turns up at the Armitages’ garden party on the arm of a late
middle-aged white woman, acting thoroughly lobotomized. He will snap out of it
long enough to provide the titular warning, but by this point the trap is set.
Williams and his TSA-honed crime-fighting instincts possibly represent
Washington’s best hope, so he should probably start saying his prayers.

Since
there is really nothing to satirize in the Trump White House these days, Peele
profitably turns his attention towards limousine (or at least McMansion) liberals.
As part of the Key & Peele duo, he has relatively little comedy experience,
but he makes the transition quite smoothly with Get Out. Of course, many of the laughs come from a dark “you’re in
trouble now, dude” kind of place, just like most successful horror comedies.
Granted, the actual evil plot afoot is beyond ludicrous, but Peele still gets
us to buy in, thanks to the potent feeling of paranoia he so deftly keeps
cranking up.

Daniel
Kaluuya is serviceable enough as Washington, the not completely clueless but
still insufficiently intuitive potential victim. Allison Williams perfectly
plays with and off him as Rose Armitage, adding a meta element as the daughter
of MSNBC news reader Brian Williams and a cast-member of HBO’s Girls. Similarly, West Wing’s Bradley Whitford (so wonderfully manic in the Broadway
revival of Boeing-Boeing) is uncomfortably
convincing as the predatory liberal, Dean Armitage. Lil Rel Howery is a bit shticky
as Williams, but he still scores a good deal of laughs, often at his own
expense. However, it is Betty Gabriel (in her third Blumhouse production) who
really brings the weirdness as the disturbingly spaced-out domestic, Georgina.

One might argue Get Out is not nearly as didactic as it has been cracked up to be.
Maybe it is an awkward viewing experience if you identify with the Armitages of
the world, but if you are coming from a different perspective, it is easy to
just laugh at their mayhem. Recommended for its paranoid nuttiness, Get Out opens today (2/24) in New York
at multiple locations, including the AMC Empire.

Drifter: Giving Cannibalism a Bad Name

It
is the post-apocalyptic near-future or maybe just California today. Cars are
worth killing for and so is just about everything else. Yet the cannibals
living in a nearly deserted trailer park village can apparently get by just by
waiting for prospective food to blow into town. Two desperate brothers will
become the special of the day in Chris von Hoffmann’s Drifter (trailer
here),
which opens today in Los Angeles.

Miles
and Dominic Pierce just got themselves some payback, so they are now on the
run. Unfortunately, the more passive Miles had a hole literally blown through
his hand. Deml does not look like they would have much medical help but they
stop anyway—and they will stay stopped, thanks to the freaky old dude who
punctures their tire. Vijah takes them in out of compassion, but she implores
the hot-headed Dominic to sit tight and shut up. Unfortunately, that is not how
he rolls. Thanks to his blundering, the Pierce Brothers will find themselves on
the business end of some torture porn, before one off them gets served up rare.

Drifter is a horribly
frustrating film, because the first act shows surprising promise, but it soon
craters into a morass of clichéd sadism. The abandoned temp housing and mobile
homes are an unsettling sight, perfectly underscored by Nao Sato’s John
Carpenter-ish soundscape. Tobias Deml sun-drenched cinematography further
heightens the sense of disorientation.

Bizarrely,
it is all undone when von Hoffmann has the pack of flesh-eaters execute the
more interesting brother, leaving the audience to endure nearly an hour of
desensitizing carnage that does not even build up much appreciable suspense.
Halfway through, you will just implore the film to end as soon as possible.

It is so obvious when Drifter runs off the rails, you have to wonder how von Hoffmann
could let it happen. Oh well, better luck next time. There will indeed most
likely be a next time, because you can see some impressive horror movie
mise-en-scene work went into Drifter.
It just lacks the character and narrative development to match. Not recommended
(unless you only watch the first half hour of any given movie), Drifter opens today (2/24) at the Arena Cinema
in Hollywood, USA.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Lost Cat Corona: Truly Made in NY

A
lot of those free “Made in NY” subway posters doled out by the Mayor’s Office
of Media and Entertainment go to films that do not look so “made in NY,” but
that certainly won’t be an issue here. People in the City tend to forget Queens
is technically part of Long Island, but it has plenty of street smart
neighborhoods and iconic New York sites. From the Flushing Meadows-Corona Park
of World’s Fair fame to plenty of back alleys and backyards, a reluctant sad
sack searches for his girlfriend’s missing feline in Anthony Tarsitano’s Lost Cat Corona (trailer here), which opens tomorrow
in New York.

Leonard
the black cat is missing, probably to make poor Dominic’s life miserable. He
had taken the day off to attend the wake for the father of his high school pal
Sal, but the domineering Connie insists he find Leonard first. For a while,
Dominic’s buddy Ponce offers his dubious help, but all he finds is a paper bad
stuffed with cash and a severed ear. As Dominic scours the neighborhood, he
crosses paths with some criminal elements. Disappointingly, it seems old Sal
the cop is one of them. However, Dominic also re-connects with some decent
folks, including his Uncle Sam and Jimmy Pipes, a Vietnam veteran whose Purple
Heart was stolen by a local punk kid.

As
movies go, LCC is light-weight and
wafer-thin, but Ralph Macchio carries it quite well. The Karate Kid survivor was surprisingly funny in the unfairly maligned
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Undead
and he exudes an easy everyman charm as Dominic. On the other hand, Gina
Gershon is like fingernails on the blackboard as Connie, a stereotypical
big-haired hen-pecking Queens drama queen. The large ensemble of New York
character actors largely do their shticky thing playing colorful members of the
neighborhood, but Tom Wopat (the former Duke of Hazard turned Tony-nominated Broadway
mainstay) is the clear standout for his sensitive turn as Pipes.

Let’s be honest, a film about a lost cat is by
definition small stakes stuff, but Tarsitano helms with a light touch. Over the
course of the day, he forces Dominic to dredge up some painful memories, but
the film never feels maudlin or manipulative. In fact, it is rather pleasant in
a low-calorie, low-stress kind of way. Recommended for natives of Queens and
maybe parts of Brooklyn that can relate, Lost
Cat Corona opens tomorrow (2/24) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

NYICFF ’17: Your Name.

It
is the second highest grossing domestic film in Japan, second only to a
Miyazaki film. In some ways, the teen body-switch Macguffin is comfortably
nostalgic, evoking memories of Nobuhiko Obayashi’s I Are You, You Am Me, but it also displays a post-Fukushima
sensibility. Perhaps it came along at the perfect zeitgeisty time for Japanese
audiences, but it is still more than sufficiently universal to sweep up viewers
of any nation in its tragic romance. Anime does not get much more emotionally sophisticated
than Makoto Shinkai’s Your Name. (trailer here), which screens as
the opening spotlight selection of the 2017 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

Taki
Tachibana is a bit of a mess, but the Tokyo high school student works hard at
his part-time job waiting tables. Mitsuha Miyamizu is a very together student,
but she would much prefer to live in Tokyo than the provincial Itomori, because
she is embarrassed by her overbearing father, the most likely crooked mayor,
and the Kuchikamizake rituals (sake brewed from chewed-up and spit-out rice)
she is forced to participate in. Even though they are strangers separated by
miles, Tachibana and Miyamizu start waking up in each other’s bodies. It
happens regularly enough they develop a system leaving notes for each other on
their smart phones of what transpired while they were swapped.

Initially,
they bicker via voice memos and generally angst out over the ways they disrupt
their respective lives, but naturally a strange attraction percolates between
them, even though they never met face-to-face. As a result, Tachibana grows
alarmed when the switching suddenly stops. In fact, he is so concerned, he sets
off to find Miyamizu offline, or whatever the right term might be, only to learn
her hometown was destroyed several years prior in a freak comet collision.

At
this point, Name takes a turn into Il Mare territory, introducing unexpectedly
fantastical, temporal, and spiritual themes. Frankly, Shinkai’s adaptation of
his own novel is almost assuredly the most mature and potent movie romance you
will see all year—and its anime. Seriously, if you are not carried along by its
sweep and earnest pluckiness than you really must be old and mean.

Both
Miyamizu and Tachibana are appealing but imperfect teenage characters, who are each
surrounded by believably distinctive social circles. Anyone living in the first
world, broadly defined, should be able to relate to the body-switchers and
their friends. A perfect case in point is Tachibana’s rather endearing crush
relationship with Miki Okudera, a college student also working at the restaurant,
whom Miyamizu finally asks out, on his behalf.

Arguably, the first act body-switching business
is like cinematic comfort food. We have seen it before, but it always seems to
work. However, even reasonably committed anime fans are likely to be surprised
how original Your Name gets and how
deep it goes. The characters, especially the co-leads, are gracefully rendered
and many of the visuals are quite striking. Very highly recommended, Your Name. screens this Saturday (2/25)
at the SVA Theatre, as the opening spotlight of this year’s NYICFF.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Reel South: An Enduring Legacy

If
you have ever gone on an eating tour of New Orleans and Cajun country, there is
a good chance you ate oysters supplied by Croatian-American oyster farmers. It
really is more like farming than fishing, as the veteran oyster hands duly
explain in James Catano’s An Enduring
Legacy: Louisiana’s Croatian Americans (trailer here), which airs as
part of the current season of Reel Southon
PBS’s World Channel (hosted by Darius Rucker).

It
stands to reason the skills one learns living off the Dalmatian Coast translate
fairly readily to the Gulf Coast. In fact, Croatian immigrants quickly
identified the comparative advantage they held in oyster farming. Since the
late 1800s, they have built a small but resilient community in Louisiana,
largely centered on the oyster business. As one might expect, Hurricane Katrina
did not do them any favors, but it was the BP oil spill and the clueless
response that really threatened their livelihoods. Yet, they persevere and have
started building more permanent community infrastructure.

Basically,
Catano pitches it to viewers straight over the plate, but it is a story worth
hearing, so why get overly complicated? These are hard-working, hard-playing
folks who do not ask anything from anyone. All they want to do is work their
oyster beds and keep their Croatian cultural traditions alive for the next
generation (who seem to be showing interest, even though there is less oyster
work to be had).

It just goes to show, when it comes to New
Orleans and the state of Louisiana, the more you look, the more you find.
Frankly, just the thought of oysters prepared any dozens of ways in the Crescent
City should make you hungry, so it is nice to take twenty-some minutes to appreciate the
oyster farmers who helped make so many great meals possible. Recommended for
additional perspective on a fascinating state, An Enduring Legacy: Louisiana’s Croatian Americans airs this Sunday
(2/26), as part of the current season of Reel
South.

Bitter Harvest: Ukraine’s Tragic History, Finally on the Big Screen

On
the spectrum of human enormity, the Holodomor, Stalin’s genocidal campaign to
starve Ukraine to the brink of extinction, ranks somewhere near the Cambodian
Killing Fields, just below the National Socialist Holocaust. Yet, many in the
West never knew it was happening. The prime culprit of Stalin’s disinformation
campaign was the compromised journalist Walter Duranty. The New York Times no longer stands by his
reports but the Pulitzer organization refuses to rescind the prize they awarded
for his denial of Stalin’s crimes against humanity. On one level, George
Mendelok’s English language Bitter Harvest functions
as a historical romance, but it is also a timely reminder of what happens when
journalists chose to serve as propagandists. Truth is a victim along with
upwards of 7.5 million Ukrainians in Mendeluk’s Harvest(trailer here), which opens
this Friday in New York.

There
was no love for the Czar amongst Ukraine’s sturdy peasantry, so they initially
welcomed the revolution as an opportunity to finally declare independence.
Unfortunately, Lenin soon reconquered the republic, expressly so its grain
could fuel the Soviet regime. After his death, Stalin pursued a more
exploitative and intentionally brutal policy. All land was nationalized and
collectivized. Harvests were almost entirely exported back to Moscow, leaving
insufficient stocks for even subsistence living and the borders were sealed, with
full knowledge mass starvation would result.

Like
so many Ukrainians, Yuri comes from Kulak stock, the so-called “rich
land-owning” peasants, a term that only makes sense to a Marxist-Leninist
theorist or a Bernie Sanders intern. His childhood sweetheart Natalka grew up
in even meaner conditions, but her family will still suffer and starve at the hands
of the brutal commissar quartered in their village.

When
Yuri is awarded a scholarship to a Kiev art school, he assumes it will offer
opportunities to help his family, but conditions in the city turn out to be
worse than in the countryside. He also witnesses the Party’s attack on free
expression first-hand when Socialist Realism is rigidly mandated throughout the
school. He assumes his old village chum will protect him when he is elected
Ukrainian Party Secretary, but poor Mykola fails to understand the caprices of
Comrade Stalin until he finds himself on the business end of a purge. When Yuri
is also imprisoned, his hopes of reuniting with Natalka look grim, but the
grandson of a legendary Cossack warrior has more fight in him than the art
school pedigree might suggest.

On-screen,
Bitter Harvest has the epic tragedy
of its obvious role model film, Doctor Zhivago. However, if you sniff underneath the celluloid, you might smell
the burnt rubber and tear gas that permeated many crew members who participated
in the Maidan Square demonstrations on their free days from shooting. The parallels
between the Lenin and Stalin eras of exploitation and attempted annihilation
and the Putin era neo-Soviet militarism hardly need explaining. Yet, lingering ignorance
of the Holodomor helps embolden Putin’s military incursions.

Much
like Andrzej Wajda’s Katyn, Mendeluk
and screenwriter Richard Bachynsky Hoover clearly illustrate the acrid
demoralization of the propaganda that so brazenly denied the victims of
Communism’s abject suffering (Duranty does indeed make an appearance in the
film, but there is no context to explain who he is). Yet, the Zhivago-esque storyline has plenty of sweep
and even harbors a handful of surprises. Samantha Barks was probably the best
part of the Les Mis movie, but she is
even more convincing as an illegitimate Slavic peasant than a French street
urchin. Max Irons is a little stiff portraying Yuri’s puppy love years, but he
shows some surprising grit in the second and third acts. Terence Stamp does his
hardnosed thing as old leathery Ivan, while Tamer Hassan chillingly projects
the wanton cruelty of the empowered extremist.

Bitter
Harvest is not a pitch-perfect
film. Frankly, Mendeluk’s dream sequences are far too woo-woo for a film that
ought to be all about cold hard realism. However, it vividly shines a light on
a criminally under-reported and often deliberately misunderstood case of
systematic mass murder, while the family saga picks up speed and power as it
develops. Highly recommended for fans of big picture historical dramas, Bitter Harvest opens this Friday (2/24)
at the AMC Empire in Midtown and the Village East downtown.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

WFA ’17: Beyond the Curtain (short)

Even
though Chinese opera has a long tradition, all but eight so-called “model
operas” were banned during the Cultural Revolution. Not surprisingly, comic
books faced a similar, but possibly more stringent prohibition. Yet, a
mysterious man will spark a young boy’s interest in both, despite the
oppressive conditions mandated by the Gang of Four in Haixu Liu’s short film Beyond the Curtain(trailer here), which
screens during this year’s Winter Film Awards.

Hai’s
family has relocated to the provinces, but they have largely been spared the
worst of the Cultural Revolution. They certainly seem to be sufficiently poor,
since Hai lacks even the simple toys enjoyed by his classmates. One day, a
mysterious homeless man starts to take an interest in the boy, giving him a few
modest gifts, including a series of hand-drawn comic books that begins the
narrative of a dark and stormy operatic tale of courtly intrigue.

With
tragic inevitability, Hai’s comics and discovered. Consequently, his parents
and local cadres force him to denounce the homeless man. Although the resulting
guilt and shame will haunt Hai all his life, he will not understand the full significance
of his forced betrayal until he visits that same provincial village decades
later, returning as a successful opera director.

Curtain really is
bittersweet in the fullest sense of the word. While the pain from the Cultural
Revolution lingers, the inspiration stoked by the mysterious vagabond also has
a lasting, edifying effect. Somehow, Liu tightly bundles up every conceivable
emotional response in his potent happy-sad pay-off, getting key assists from
his small but talented ensemble. As young Hai, Zhiwen Zhang is arrestingly open
and earnest, while Xianli Meng is hauntingly dignified and sad as the homeless
man.

Liu also has an impressive eye for visual
composition. He dramatically contrasts the drabness of life during the Cultural
Revolution with the lush, stylized sets of the opera unfolding in Hai’s comic
books. Arguably, Curtain is more
cinematic than most full length features. In fact, Liu fits plenty of character
development into its twenty-seven-minute running time, telling quite a dramatic,
era-spanning story with great economy. Very highly recommended, Beyond the Curtain screens this Sunday
night (2/26) and the following Wednesday (3/1) as part of programming blocks of
the 2017 Winter Film Awards.

The Girl with All the Gifts: R-Rated Zombie YA-Crossover Adaptation

Humanity
ought to just give up the ghost and make way for zombies to rule the Earth in
our place. It is what we deserve for being so rapacious and exploitative,
whereas zombies are all about sensitivity and sustainable growth. Not according
to any zombie film we’ve ever seen, yet those same films insist the shuffling
hordes will be better stewards of the planet. That is even true of the zombie
movies based on YA-crossover novels. In this case, it also happens to be rated
R. Regardless, humanity is up the creek, but Melanie, a second-generation “hungry”
probably has the right stuff to survive in Colm McCarthy’s The Girl with All the Gifts(trailer here), which opens
this Friday in New York.

In
this case, Melanie really is a girl, a bright ten-year-old who carries the zombie-turning
fungal infection. Since she was infected in-utero, she can still conduct
herself in a rational manner, as long as she does not get a good whiff of human
flesh. She and two or three dozen of her fellow hybrids are serving as research
guinea pigs in a secret military base outside London. Helen Justineau is
probably the only sympathetic adult figure the kids-with-the-gift know. Aside
from her, nobody on staff really takes her daily lessons seriously, but it
provides a bonding catalyst for Justineau and the children, especially Melanie.
Therefore, when the hungries over run the base, it is Melanie who she will
save.

Rather
awkwardly, Justineau and Melanie fall in with the hardnosed hungry-hating Sgt.
Eddie Parks and the icily self-assured Dr. Caroline Caldwell, who was one
zombie attack away from vivisecting Melanie for the sake of a cure. Together,
they will try to make it to the Beacon base, but all the hungries in their way
make it hard going.

We
have been down the humanized zombie road before, most notably with Sabu’s Miss Zombie, but also with Maggie, In the Flesh, and Wyrmwood, but at least Gifts starts promisingly. With the help
of aerial drone photography of Chernobyl-decimated Pripyat, McCarthy creates an
eerie vision of post-zombie apocalypse London. Melanie also seems to engage
with her human captors in mature, interesting ways, particularly her
intellectually curious exchanges with Dr. Caldwell. Unfortunately, nearly
everyone becomes a zombie movie cliché is the third act, including Melanie
herself. Events and decisions that are not well-founded by the preceding scenes
just seem to happen in order to bring the film to a ridiculously unsatisfying
conclusion.

Sennia
Nanua is pretty impressive as Melanie, even when she is forced to wear that
protective ski mask (lucky they made that model out of transparent plastic). Glenn
Close chews the scenery like a pro and Paddy Considine broods like nobody’s
business as crusty Sgt. Parks. Gemma Arterton looks uncomfortable playing
Justineau, but she manages to get by. Unfortunately, the ragamuffin
hungry-hybrids who shows up later are far more laughable than feral or fierce.

Despite some intense hungry-zombie action, most
notably the scenes in which they are able to sneak around the zoned-out
in-place packs of the fungal-infected, Gifts
ends on a dubious note. It is like McCarthy and screenwriter Mike Carey
(adapting his own novel) just give up on their narrative as well as the human
race. Only recommended for zombie fans in dire want of a fix, The Girl with All the Gifts opens this
Friday (2/24) in New York, at the Village East.

WFA ’17: Moon of a Sleepless Night (short)

Neil
deGrasse Tyson might not approve of the astronomy, but so be it. This gentle
quest fable is a charmer and probably good bedtime viewing for little ones, so
hopefully some enterprising DVD distributor will pick it up, despite its
twenty-seven-minute running time. When the moon gets stuck in the trees only a
young boy and a lunar squirrel can save it in Takeshi Yashiro’s elegant
stop-motion animated short Moon of a
Sleepless Night(trailer here), which
screens during this year’s Winter Film Awards.

The
little boy is tossing and turning tonight, so his woodsman father takes him out
for a stroll to tire him out. There is no moon to light their way, so the
woodsman deduces it is hung up on the treetops somewhere to the east.
Naturally, they set out to free it, unless the “Rabbit of the Moon” does so
first. Apparently, that is exactly what happened, except he is a squirrel, not
a rabbit (as he explains repeatedly to the boy and his mother)—and he has rather
negligently let himself get left behind.

The
following day refuses to give way to night, because the squirrel-less moon is presumably
stuck beyond the horizon. That has rather real world implications for the boy’s
family, because his father might not know when to come home from his fishing
expedition, so the boy heads off with the squirrel to right the situation.

Moon is a wonderfully
gentle and captivating tale, whose charms are equally endearing for viewers of
all ages. It is certainly fantastical and furry, thanks to the talking
squirrel, but it also functions as a thoughtful coming-of-age story. The
deliberately woody, rough-hewn look of Yashiro’s people are still oddly
expressive and well-serve the film’s rustic woodland vibe. Yet, the forest
world they inhabit is rich in detail and lushly realized.

Frankly, Moon
just leaves viewers with a contented glow. That combined with its nocturnal
sleepytime themes could well make it staple evening viewing for families.
Regardless, it is a lovely piece of filmmaking, very highly recommended when it
screens this Friday (2/24) and next Monday (2/27), as part of this year’s
Winter Film Awards.

Monday, February 20, 2017

FCS ’17: Bitter Money

Even
prior to the Ming Dynastic Era, Huzhou was known as a center of the silk trade
and for the production of ink brushes. Somewhat logically, it is now a regional
hub of the Chinese textile industry, but that does not necessarily make it a
fun place to live and work—quite the contrary, in fact. Wang Bing documents the
hardscrabble lives of a number of migrant workers laboring away in Huzhou’s
sweatshop-like workshops in Bitter Money, which
screens as part of this year’s Film Comment Selects.

There
is more “reality” in Wang Bing’s body of work than the entire reality television
genre, in toto. Yet, Bitter Money could
almost be considered his Real World,
given how much of it is confined to the dilapidated dormitory provided by the
workshop owner for his employees. Initially, we meet two teen cousins as they
take the long rail passage from Yunnan to Huzhou in search of work, but Wang
will only follow them for so long. Like Linklater’s Slacker, he will hop from one textile worker to another that might
happen to cross their paths. It looks random, but he seems to have inside info
telling him when to jump. As a result, he captures a nasty confrontation
between twenty-five-year-old Ling Ling and her defiantly unsupportive (and
physically violent) husband Erzi.

By
far, Ling Ling and Erzi represents the most extreme case in Bitter Money. Most of the dormitory
residents are reasonably healthy, undeniably hardworking, and in some instances
maybe even somewhat happy. Two teenage sisters certainly look and sound like
teens you might meet anywhere else in the world, but it is a shame they aren’t
in high school, where they could better enjoy gossiping about boys. However, hard-drinking
Huang Lei is another hard case. Whether the boss’s refusal to pay him until he
sobers up is protective or exploitative is a highly debatable question.

Frankly,
there is more such ambiguity in Bitter
Money than most of Wang’s uncompromisingly soul-crushing documentaries. Nobody
appears to be making much money out of textiles, unless it is the “big
factories” that factor so prominently in rumors throughout the film. From what
the audience can pick up on, the margins just sound punishing. Yet people keep
coming and they keep finding work, albeit at wages not far above subsistence
level.

Once again, Wang is fleet of foot and handy enough
with the handheld to capture some telling moments. Arguably, this is the most
engaging group of subjects he has filmed since Three Sisters. We feel sympathy for nearly all of them, but we only
despair for a select few, which gives it a considerably less downcast tone than
most of his films. There is a lot of life going on in Bitter Money, as everyone tries to get by as best they can.
Recommended for admirers of Wang’s intense examination of the human condition
in contemporary China, Bitter Money screens
this Thursday (2/23), as part of the 2017 edition of Film Comment Selects.

FCS ’17: Dogs

How
do you keep 550 hectacres of strategically located land undeveloped for years,
even during Romania’s Communist era? You have to be one bad cat, like Roman’s
late grandfather, whom he hardly knew. Perhaps not surprisingly, the town’s
terminally ill police chief and various low life thugs are less than welcoming
when Roman takes possession of his property (with the intent to sell) in Bogdan
Mirică’s Dogs(trailer here), which
screens as part of this year’s Film Comment Selects.

“Uncle
Alecu’s” property comes with a cranky caretaker, a snarling guard dog
ironically named “Police” and a drafty old farmhouse with a shotgun prominently
displayed. Soon after his arrival Police the dog alerts him to two strange cars
secretly meeting in the middle of Old Alecu’s barren scrub grass. A few days
later, Roman and his sales agent Sebi Voicu interrupt another such nocturnal
rendezvous. Rather ominously, Voicu’s car was discovered abandoned shortly
thereafter.

Voicu’s
disappearance is one of two cases Chief Hogas is trying to clear. The other
involves a severed foot discovered floating in a nearby pond. Unfortunately,
two serious complications have imposed artificial time constraints on Hogas.
His precinct is imminently due to be replaced by a roving mobile unit and his
body is fatally riddled with cancer. Before he goes, Hogas desperately hopes to
take down his nemesis, Samir, the local drug trafficking kingpin.

Dogs could indeed be considered
the Romanian No Country for Old Men or
Hell or High Water. It definitely has
a contemporary western vibe, but it is still a Romanian film, so it should come
as no surprise Dogs is a bit of a
slow-starting slow-builder. Yet, Mirică organically develops the tension out of
the moody, frontier-like setting. While the title is somewhat metaphorical,
Police the junkyard dog still gets plenty of screen time. If you liked A Dog’s Purpose, you would probably be utterly
horrified by Mirică’s Dogs, but it is
still features some impressive canine screen work.

Dragos
Bucur is actually a rather big fellow, but he manages to make Roman
convincingly gawky and passive. Gheorghe Visu is quite salty and wry, playing
Hogas much like a Romanian Jeff Bridges, except more emaciated. Constantin
Cojocaru adds plenty of sinister local color as the caretaker, Epure, but
Police’s constantly barking presence really makes the film.

Dogs steadily works towards some legit genre mayhem,
while still staying true to its Romanian New Wave heritage. Mirică shows
tremendous patience and a careful command of mise-en-scene, but it is still one
of the more easily watchable Romanian films you are likely to see on the
festival circuit. It really is a thriller and not just a film that inherits the
category label, because it includes cops and guns. Recommended with enthusiasm
for discriminating viewers, Dogs screens
this Thursday night (2/23), as the conclusion of the 2017 edition of Film
Comment Selects.

Sunday, February 19, 2017

FCS ’17: Harmonium

Japanese
cinema has brought us gracefully humanistic masterworks of domestic drama from the
like of Yasujiro Ozu, Yasujiro Shimazu, and Yoji Yamada. This is not one of
them. The Toshio Suzuoka and his family are not exactly happy, but they are
essentially in a state of equilibrium until the arrival of an associate from
his past in Kôji Fukada’s Harmonium(trailer here), which
screens as part of this year’s Film Comment Selects.

In
all honesty, Suzuoka is not an especially loving husband or father, but he
provides well enough with his garage-based metal-working shop. In fact,
business is brisk enough, he can hallway justify bringing on Kusataro Yasaka as
his assistant. Unbeknownst to his wife Akie, Suzuoka was the accomplice Yasaka
never named for his role in the murder he has just finished serving a prison
sentence for. Obviously, Suzuoka is acting out of guilt, but his wife and
daughter Hotaru take a genuine liking to the new member of the household, even
when Yasaka partially confides in Akie (diplomatically leaving out her husband
involvement).

At
first, Harmonium seems to follow the
general trajectory of Down and Out in
Beverly Hills, with Akie fighting to deny her sexual attraction to Yasaka,
and ten-year-ish Hotaru looking up to him as a supplemental parent-figure
(especially when he starts giving her lessons on the titular pump organ).
However, the film takes a shockingly disturbing turn late in the second act
that frankly might be too much for many viewers.

Regardless,
the effects of the now missing Yasaka’s actions will remain ever present for
his former employers. Yet, fate takes an almost Biblical turn when the grown
son Yasaka never knew is unknowingly hired by Suzuoka to succeed him.

Harmonium is a taut,
claustrophobic film, but it never observes traditional thriller conventions. In
fact, it has a pronounced habit of zagging whenever you expect it to zig. Although
certainly not a genre film per se, it is still something of a domestic horror
story. In many ways, it compares quite directly with Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Tokyo Sonata.

All
four starting principals give impressively assured, stringently restrained
performances, but it is especially harrowing to see Mariko Tsutsui go slightly,
but not completely nuts as Akie Suzuoka. It is also rather remarkable how Tadanobu
Asano can shift Yasaka from quietly world weary to fiercely ominous with almost
imperceptible alterations in body language and tone of voice. Yet it is Momone
Shinokawa and Kana Mahiro who really tear up viewers as the younger and older
incarnations of Hotaru.

Arguably,
the ending is maybe a bit too indeterminate for such an otherwise
uncompromising film. Regardless, it is definitely the work of an assured
stylist of distinctly Japanese sensibilities. Highly recommended for the unsentimental,
Harmonium screens this Tuesday (2/21)
as part of the 2017 edition of Film Comment Selects.

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Tales of Our Time: Terra Nullius or: How to Be a Nationalist

Thanks
to his preparation for this film, James T. Hong is now a licensed fisherman in
Taiwan. That would give him a trade to fall back on, if he were not so prone to
seasickness. Nevertheless, his is determined to reach the disputed Senkaku no
man’s land islands, with whichever nationalist group can reach its shores.
Fitting in chameleon-like with each faction, Hong follows their demonstrations
and high seas hijinks in Terra Nullius
or: How to Be a Nationalist(trailer here), which
screens today at the Guggenheim, in conjunction with the Tales of Our Time exhibition.

After
WWII, the Senkaku Islands were covered under the American administration of
Okinawa. Basically, the U.S. military just used it for bombing practice until
returning it to Japanese control in 1971. Subsequently, both Taiwan and
Mainland China claimed the remote islands. However, the ROC no longer formally
disputes Japanese possession, whereas the PRC is cagey on the subject. It
hardly matters. Nationalist groups from all three nations are more than willing
to press the claims that inspire such circumspect caution in their governments.

Somewhat
ironically, the People’s Republic activists now sail out of Hong Kong, because
the Mainland authorities will just automatically chuck Diaoyu (as they call the
Senkaku Islands) activists in prison. Of all the fake fisherman Hong spends
time with, the Mainlanders probably get the most screen time, possibly due to
their ability to cuss a blue streak when confronting various maritime
authorities.

Oh
by the way, a 1968 survey suggested there could be oil under them there
islands. Yet, the activists seem oblivious to any strategic value the Senkaku
Islands, or Diaoyutai as they call them in Taiwan, might hold. It all seems to
be about land and blood for them, sort of like a Frenchman discussing Algeria.

Frankly,
it is pretty amazing how easily Hong fell in with such disparate groups. Seriously,
they do not seem to be the compromising types. Granted, the energy level of Terra Nullius rises and falls, but he
captures some pretty nutty behavior. He also contributes to the lunacy with
climatic gesture of grand futility worthy of Mads “The Ambassador” Brügger.

Presumably, Terra
Nullius is intended as a cautionary critique of nationalism, but it is hard
not to think a lot of trouble could have been saved if the U.S. military had
just kept occupying the islands. We would still just be shelling the shellac
out of them, so maybe we could have avoided the Vieques controversy too. It is somewhat
inconsistent, even at a mere seventy-nine minutes, but its strongest sequences
successfully marry the sensibilities of gonzo journalism and video installation
art. Recommended for curious vérité fans, Terra
Nullius or: How to Be a Nationalist screens again this afternoon (2/18) at
the Guggenheim, free with Museum admission.

J.B. Spins

About Me

J.B. (Joe Bendel) works in the book publishing industry, and also teaches jazz survey courses at NYU's School of Continuing and Professional Studies. He has written jazz articles for publications which would be appalled by his political affiliation. He also coordinated instrument donations for displaced musicians on a volunteer basis for the Jazz Foundation of America during the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Send e-mail to: jb.feedback "at" yahoo "dot" com.